Chapter 29
I’d watched it nine times now. Nine times, and on every replay, I noticed something different.
Breaker, Elio, and I had come straight to the archive station as soon as we started our free day.
When I’d proposed looking at the archives to Elio, he was immediately on board to watch the replay, almost shocked he hadn’t thought to suggest it in the first place.
Being third years and squadron leaders, Elio and I both had access to the archives for training purposes, both for our own knowledge and to better our units.
It had taken a moment to find the replay, however, as Vann’s point-of-view had been mislabeled as Mishka in the official files, when I’d been searching by his real name. It was fortunate that Elio had come with us, as he’d immediately known what to look for instead.
Clearly that wasn’t a lucky guess. For the second highest ranking soldier in the entirety of Astaroth Academy, his professionalism needed refinement.
For future reference, I corrected the official registry, while side-eying my longtime friend.
He was unsettlingly obsessed with Vann. Though it was difficult to say if Breaker and I were any better, considering we were all here.
I was still trying to wrap my head around how we’d even started spending meal times with him. I couldn’t say I disliked him as a person—he had a dry sense of humor, a strong sense of duty and discipline, and he fit in better than I was willing to admit—but there had to me more to the story.
Maybe this was the story.
The three of us had watched both sides now, but watching from Vann’s perspective was far more interesting. Being in Elio’s head, comparatively, gave me a headache. He was a man who felt everything very, very intensely, and it was exhausting.
Breaker started the playback again, slowing the video to better analyze it.
“His sync really is perfect,” Elio noted, supporting himself with his forearm draped over my shoulder as he leaned forward to get a closer look. “There wasn’t even a one-percent fluctuation after I took his whole fucking arm off. Granted it’s just a SIM, but… damn.”
“He’s only been in a simulation a handful of times though.
” I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. He moved like it was truly his body, as adeptly as he did in sparring practice.
I’d watched enough replays in the archive to know that was far removed from what a new pilot should be experiencing.
Elio’s movements were as fluid and precise as I expected and knew he was capable of, but why were Vann’s just as perfect? Possibly even better.
“I’m curious…” Elio trailed off, before he walked over to the archive monitor, and accessed Vann’s folder again.
He pulled up his first mission, which should have been his first time ever in an emulation of a Shinka of any sort.
“I haven’t watched this one yet, but I encountered him way earlier than I should have in the first evaluation too. ”
“You did?” I studied him curiously. Why hadn’t he mentioned that before? Vann shouldn’t have even been in the server at all yet by the time Elio completed that remedial mission.
The video started from the moment Vann entered the simulation, and the timer immediately started counting to determine how long he spent in the waiting area.
All of these factors were tracked and evaluated, and for once, this was particularly telling and useful.
On top of the fact that he’d needed no time to familiarize himself well enough to enter the simulation when experiencing sync for the first time, his synchronization meter was full from the second he’d entered the mind of the machine.
Flawless, natural affinity.
“Do you think he’s piloted a Shinka before?” Elio scrunched his nose as we watched him test his thrusters and familiarize himself with the machine’s functions, flipping through HUD menus as though he didn’t know what to expect.
“Unlikely.” I shook my head. “Look at how he’s testing the unit.
It’s a clear trial and error style of learning, where he’s performing functions one at a time in order to understand what does what, and what information is available in each module.
It’s not a pre-mission check of someone who’s fully familiar with their equipment.
It’s more like someone who skipped the tutorial and is manually learning the controls on the fly.
” I switched back to the newest video for comparison, where he was on his way to the entry point the second he was fully in the SIM.
“That’s a man who knows his machine from the moment it materialized.
” I switched back. “That’s a man who’s figuring it out for the first time. ”
I let the video play, observing as he immediately located another soldier and started toward them, followed by the timid way he hid instead of engaging the cross wing.
Cross wings were easy prey in a Shinka. No one who had been a pilot for any length of time would have hid from that encounter, leading me to the likely assumption that he didn’t know how capable his weapons were yet.
He arrived at a broken coliseum, then made the poor choice to plead with a soldier who was clearly struggling, begging him to work with him instead of simply moving on to a more capable target who would complete the mission more efficiently.
If we watched the other unit’s play back, I would be surprised if his sync was over thirty-percent with how stiff and jerky his movements.
Vann’s feed was interrupted abruptly by a violent bang. His HUD view was scrambled before he could register the enemy.
Had a tank taken off his head? That would be unexpectedly aggressive for a beginner mission. And unusually efficient for a cross wing in any mission.
Elio reached to turn off the playback. “We don’t really need to watch the rest—”
“Don’t touch it,” I interrupted him sternly. An explosion sent Vann’s damage monitors into loud, red, flashing warnings. His leg was destroyed, and his vision was cracked, with static obscuring the view.
Had he been ambushed by multiple enemy units? They hadn’t included Ghuls in this scenario though, and nothing else could do that level of damage.
His view focused slowly, but even with the large cracks in his eye port, the name Elio Marx could be read in clear letters across the recorded screen.
Both Breaker and I turned to look at our red haired companion, who threw his hands up in surrender. “I was angry and sleep deprived, and he’d been pissing me off. It was an impulsive decision.”
Breaker laughed, and I rolled my eyes.
The fact that Vann’s sync remained perfect, even through that sort of trauma, was interesting, but it wasn’t the most interesting part of this.
“Are you done antagonizing him now.” I phrased it like a question, but I stated it as a demand. “You’re aware I could have you formally reprimanded for several of your recent offensives toward him.”
“But you won’t.” Elio was entirely too secure in our relationship, and I hated to admit to myself that he wasn’t wrong in his assumption. Was this how good soldiers were corrupted and led astray? Questionable friendships?
“I will if you take it upon yourself to break more of his bones.” I chastised him with a shake of my head.
“We resolved our issues man-to-man and fist-to-fist. It was necessary. Stop being so uptight.” Now he sounded like Breaker. Though the amusement in his expression was curiously… fond? Playful?
That bothered me more than it should have.
“Necessary for him, or necessary for you?” I quirked a brow.
“You saw the last evaluation. He hunted me down and challenged me specifically. He instigated it. Clearly he wanted to fight it out.” His gaze darted to the side.
“I also saw the first evaluation where you instigated it, when there was absolutely no reason to fight it out.” While I would love to turn a blind eye just because he was someone I cared about, this was legitimately a problem.
It could take well over a month for that rib to fully heal, amidst the constant aggravation of active training.
“Like I said, I wasn’t in a good headspace.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Not sure how to explain that sharing a room with him makes it somewhat impossible to leave him alone without suffering myself.”
I’d nearly forgotten about that fact.
“What have you been doing, by the way?” I knew he couldn’t sleep in the same room as another person, and I knew why he used an A2.
Small as Vann was, I doubted Elio’s trauma responses took that into account when determining if he would feel secure enough to rest. His excuse that he was in a state of sleep deprived irrationality was likely sound.
Though it wasn’t particularly out of character for him one way or the other, really.
“I’m resourceful. Don’t worry about it.” He waved a dismissive hand, and as much as I wanted to, I didn’t press the point. Elio grew up here after all, and I knew he wasn’t one to ask for help unless there was little other choice. “I think you’re focusing on the wrong thing here.”
“Fair point.” I nodded, allowing him to drop the subject.
I played the most recent video from Vann’s perspective one last time.
“But if this level of performance continues, he’ll likely make rank sooner than later.
When is the next orientation for newly ranked pilots?
” I should have been the one answering such a question, being the organized one among us, but I genuinely hadn’t expected to need to know so soon.
“We’ll have one more VR evaluation next month, then it’ll be the orientation.
I checked the calendar after I found out he’d been promoted so far up,” Elio answered.
He was surprising me, genuinely, with how on top of this he was.
“I hate to say it, but with how he’s been piloting those things, it’s likely he’ll be part of that orientation.
” His expression twitched as though it physically pained him to pay Vann such a concession.